


it was always you

by sagtag2020



Category: Canadian Universities
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluff, Harry Potter AU, Hogwarts AU, M/M, Pining, Quentin is a cute Hufflepuff boi, Quidditch, Wesley is a protective Slytherin boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:07:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25062862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagtag2020/pseuds/sagtag2020
Summary: 5 times Wesley was Quentin’s knight in shining armor + the 1 time Quentin was Wesley’saka: the hogwarts au nobody asked for
Relationships: Western University/Queen's University
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	it was always you

1\. First Year

They meet in first year under the blanket of the night sky, drifting slowly to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Quentin had lost sight of the friends he made on the train ride and ended up sitting next to a quiet dark-haired boy as they slowly floated along the Great Lake towards Hogwarts. Only two of them are on the boat, the atmosphere awkward and suffocating from the lack of intimacy between them. Quentin bites his lip. He’s about to explode from the loudness of the silence. 

“My name’s Quentin,” he blurts out, extending a hand out towards the boy. “Nice to meet you! I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me on this boat; I kinda lost track of my friends…” He trails off awkwardly. 

The boy cracks a smile. It makes him look handsome and charming in a way that Quentin doesn’t expect. Quentin feels his cheeks slowly warm up, and realises that he’s flushing. He looks away quickly.

The boy says, “I’m Wesley, nice to meet you too.” A brief pause passes before he speaks again. “You better step away from the edge of the boat, you’re about to fall in.”

“Don’t worry,” Quentin laughs nervously, “my mom says I’m a great swimmer.” 

He flexes his arms jokingly and steps out closer to the edge of the boat, raising his arms to the sky. The wind pushes past them incessantly. “I’m the king of the world!”

“Watch out!” Wesley cries out as Quentin falls, losing his balance from a particularly strong gust of wind. 

That phrase is the last thing Quentin hears before all he feels is empty air, free-falling down the short distance from the boat to the dark body of water. He’s about to brace for impact, resigning himself to the fate of being drenched in freezing water before he feels warm hands grasp his wrists. He looks up, dangling from the boat in a precarious manner, and sees Wesley’s face staring back at him in concern. 

It was a crisp-cool night full of twinkling stars, but all Quentin could see was him. 

2\. Second Year

The next time they see each other is during a quidditch match. After the boat incident, Quentin had been swarmed by his friends and was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff. Wesley, on the other hand, had been sorted into Slytherin and hence, they never shared any classes. 

In second year, Quentin had made the seeker position on the Hufflepuff team and he heard some people saying Wesley had made the beater position. 

“You ready to get _beaten_ today?” a voice teases him from behind. Quentin knows it’s Wesley speaking; the lilting tone of his voice is unique enough for him to quickly recognize it.

Quentin feels a smile tugging on his lips, turning around to watch his friend in emerald green robes all but swagger up to him. Since joining the Slytherin house, Wesley had become more outspoken and tended to have that “I know something you don’t” look in his eyes often. 

Quentin had lost the nerve to speak with Wesley and ask him to be friends months ago. It carries over to their current time.

However, wearing the bright yellow robes of Hufflepuff gives Quentin the courage to reply. “I’m convinced that the only reason you wanted to become a beater is so you could make that pun.”

Wesley smirks slightly, revealing perfect white teeth that Quentin makes a point to look away from. 

“Maybe.”

Quentin ends up having to hide his smile, but he’s sure Wesley notices the corners of his lips lift up from the self-content grin that spreads across his face.

*

The whistle blows and the balls and brooms fly off the ground and into the air. Quentin swoops quickly toward the sky, eyes scanning the arena for a glimpse of the golden snitch. ~~And of course, he notices the way Wesley flies around the Hufflepuff posts, eyes glinting in excitement. Of course, he notices his smile and the way he protects his teammates, the way his muscles flex when he bats the bludger. How could he not notice the best player on the field?~~

“Quentin!” A scream knocks Quentin out of his musings before a dark green blur knocks him over. A bludger zooms past where Quentin’s head was previously. 

Amber eyes scan over Quentin worriedly, looking for any injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, um, thanks for saving me,” Quentin says, giving Wesley a bright smile. “You really saved my life, huh?”

A pink flush spreads across Wesley’s cheeks, but Quentin’s sure that’s only from the heat. “I’m just glad that you’re okay.”

*  
Quentin isn’t surprised when _Slytherin Beater Saves Hufflepuff Seeker_ makes the headlines of Hogwarts Daily the following week.

3\. Third Year

Since that quidditch incident, Quentin can gladly say with all his heart that the up and coming Slytherin heartthrob, Wesley, is his best friend. 

“Hello? Quen! What’s your pretty little mind thinking about?” Wesley smiles as he takes Quentin’s glasses and makes them float around his head with a flick of his wand.

“Hey!” Quentin jumps up and tries to grasp for his glasses. 

“I was trying to get your attention when you zoned out, Quen,” Wesley laughs. “How’s studying going for potions?”

Quentin looks down at his copy of the potions textbook. The words begin to blur together in his head. Polyjuice Potion? Billywig stings? 

“Not as well as you’d think. It’s different for you. You’re, like, the potions god in our year!” Quentin flails his arms in exaggeration. Wesley laughs at his antics. Quentin revels in the fact that he is one of the few people in Hogwarts blessed enough to hear Wesley’s dorky laugh. 

“Say, since you are the potions god, why don’t you bless a mere mortal like me?” Quentin leans forward across the desk to meet Wesley’s face. He fails to notice the tips of Wesley’s ears are turning red. 

“Uh, you know you can just ask me to help you study instead of going through all of this.” Wesley shrugs off nonchalantly, trying to keep his cool. 

“And also, you, Quentin, are anything but average,” Wesley says as he levels a hard stare at him. “Say it with me, I, Quentin, am more than average. I am an amazing human and make a great pillow.”

“I, Quentin, am more than average. I am an amazing human and make a—what?”

*  
Quentin gets all Os on his OWLS that year. 

4\. Fourth Year

The Hufflepuff quidditch team had just won their match against Ravenclaw and the entire team had went off to Hogsmeade to celebrate. 

Quentin loses all sense of control and self-perseverance on his 6th glass of butterbeer and climbs up on top of a table. 

“15 galleons,” Quentin shouts. “15 galleons! That’s the latest bet! That’s the latest bet! Any more takers before you start handing me money?”

“Quentin,” Wesley says, tugging his arm just enough to make him stumble but not fall over.

“Wesley!” Quentin yells excitedly as he bends down to match his eye level. “Care to join in the wager? They said I couldn’t do a backflip, and frankly, I find that insulting. So now I’m going to make at least 20 galleons off of these guys.”

“Quentin, that’s enough,” Wesley says in a stern tone. “It’s late. Time to go home,”

Usually, Quentin has a sense of self-preservation and a filter. Usually.

“Home,” Quentin scoffs. He leans closer and plants a kiss on Wesley’s cheek. “You’re right here. I’m already home,”

The tips of Wesley’s ears turn red to the growing cheers of the crowd behind them. With a clearly exaggerated sigh, Wesley sweeps Quentin into a princess carry.

“Let’s get you home,”

*

When Quentin wakes up the next morning, he notices a green scarf wrapped nicely around his neck. He looks to the nightstand and finds a glass of water with a note attached to it. 

“Take better care of yourself, Quen.”

Quentin smiles. 

5\. Fifth Year

Riding a hippogriff feels like riding a broomstick, Quentin realizes. The wind brushes past his blonde hair and he can see the beauty of Hogwarts in the distance. 

While soaring through the air, Quentin’s left to his thoughts. And when he gets left to stew in his thoughts, he begins to think about forbidden thoughts and daydreams. 

Wesley is his best friend. And Quentin finds him undeniably attractive, even back in first year. 

And when he became friends with Wesley after that fateful quidditch game when he did work up the courage to talk to him, he learned that Wesley was such a lovable dork. He was a whiz at potions but could not uproot mandrakes for his life. 

When Wesley smiles, Quentin can see how it lights up the entire room. Quentin’s also enamoured with the way Wesley bites his lip in concentration while studying for Arithmetics. The hilarious things he would make up for Divination. And most importantly, the way Wesley takes care of people makes Quentin’s heart race. 

That would make Quentin one of Wesley’s many fangirls but what he wouldn’t give to be in Wesley’s arms again. 

_Is it possible to fall in love with your best friend?_

_No,_ Quentin decides. _Wesley is and will only be my best friend._

With this in mind, Quentin leans on the back of the hippogriff he's riding and prepares for the descent. A particularly strong gust of wind blows by and Quentin loses his grip on the hippogriff. 

He free-falls down.

_Well, isn’t this deja vu,_ he thinks sarcastically in mid-air and prepares for his inevitable death. 

Before he falls straight into Wesley’s arms. 

+1. Sixth Year

Quentin has N.E.W.T level exams tomorrow and he should really not be wandering the halls at this time but he really wants a chocolate croissant. He’s just passing by the portrait of Daryle when he hears the familiar voice of his friend.

“Hey! Do you mind placing your hands off me?” echoes down the hall. 

Quentin practically sprints to where he thinks the noise is coming from because it’s his best friend in danger and he needs help—

Quentin rounds the corridor to see a girl forcing herself on Wesley against the wall. And Wesley, being too gentlemanly, is trying to gently pry her off. 

Quentin, the nice Hufflepuff who has no mean bone in his body, mans up and summons all the courage in his body because that’s his best friend in trouble, goddammit. 

“Hey! I believe he said he doesn’t want you touching him!” Quentin places a hand on his and tries to look intimidating. He even pulls out his wand for good measure and points it at the girl threateningly. 

The girl, a younger year, seems to be scared off and jumps off Wesley. She glances between the two of them and chooses to favour her life. She runs. 

Quentin turns to Wesley, “Are you alright?” It feels weird to be the one saying it this time. “Should we report her for sexual harassment? I know you’re a very attractive guy and I really like you but…” 

Quentin cuts himself off. He needed to say it. “Please tell me this is not one-sided and you have some semblance of feelings for me because I have been absolutely crazy for you since first year” he says desperately.

Several emotions flicker through Wesley’s face. Wesley’s face gives off fatigue, desperation and happiness, before ultimately settling on an emotion Quentin couldn’t identify. 

“Hey,” he says suddenly, and Quentin’s head snaps up. He’s been way closer than he’s ever been. Hell, Wesley could kiss him if he want—

_No Quentin, stop it. He doesn’t like you in that— wait, why does he look nervous?_

“What’s up?” Quentin asks, bewildered. 

“I have a question.” Wesley steps closer, 

“Y-yeah?” he stammers. _Damn, he smells good._

“Can I kiss you?”

Quentin’s brain short-circuits. He croaks out weakly, “I don’t know, can you?”

Wesley rolls his eyes and asks again. “ _May_ I kiss you?”

Quentin feels his lips turn up and his heart rate spike _again_. That seriously can’t be healthy. He can smell his cologne, can feel himself nodding his head, can feel— _wait did he just nod?_

He feels soft lips on his, and his eyes drift closed. Wesley’s chapped lips are intoxicating and Quentin can feel himself drowning, but he has to say _something_. 

Quentin takes a step back and looks at Wesley, the person who saved him from falling in, his quidditch rival, his study buddy, the one who took care of him while he was drunk, the one who always catches him...

“You know, ever since that night, you were all I could ever see.”

“It’s always been you.”

* 

“Will you please tell me you love me? I’m dying here.”


End file.
